


Ball Chain, Covergirl, Comestains

by gala_apples



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Infidelity, Multi, Polyamory, Possessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-24
Updated: 2012-09-24
Packaged: 2017-11-14 22:22:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/520124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Forrest likes to mark what's his.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ball Chain, Covergirl, Comestains

Forrest used to worry sex led to a path of doom. Not because of the stupid lectures demanding teen abstinence hidden behind a title of Sex Ed. He didn't actually listen to those speeches, no one did. Even Cleo, going for valedictorian, tended to surreptitiously pull out a book and read instead. He worried about sex because he knew that his parents relationship had been founded entirely on sex. His childhood sleep had been marred by Barry White throbbing through the thin wall from his room to their room almost every night. But then as the sex slowly diminished, the hatred grew in its place, until everything was drinking and screaming. So, if sex leads to hatred, then, well, he always has his hand.

The first time he tells his best friends that, the three of them have been awake for about thirty hours. They’re going for a full weekend awake; from Friday morning before school until after primetime Sunday night. Cleo spent the majority of the bus ride him declaiming the dangers of lack of sleep, but Delmar had snorted, Forrest had smiled, and by the time they were getting off at the stop nearest Delmar’s, she’d decided she didn't care. 

They’ve played video games until no one has the dexterity to go on. Not even Smash Bros., which is basically just flicking the joystick as fast as you can. Forrest is looking around the room for something else active to do -at this point they’ll be asleep by the end of the opening credits if they put on a movie- when Delmar says “I suggest a smoothie break.”

“Seconded.” 

The kitchen is colder than the living room, the way they’re all half naked. It was an early suggestion of Cleo’s; one of the causes of insomnia is a too cold bedroom, so it follows that walking around in boxers and in Cleo’s case, a bra, would help keep them awake. At least the living room has couches and carpet for surfaces, the kitchen is all laminate and wood. Forrest shivers and curls around Cleo, who is somehow still radiating heat, letting Delmar bend into his fridge and pull out a bunch of different fruits.

They talk, voices pitched louder than the blender until Delmar stops making slurry, and then they just don’t bother to move back to the living room. Classwork becomes classmates which becomes rumors becomes crushes. Somehow it slips from Forrest’s lips that he’s got no interest in asking anyone out because he doesn’t trust sex. And that’s when Delmar bends forward until he’s almost toppling off the wood grain laminate counter and kisses him. Which is right before Cleo kisses him. Which is right before Cleo and Delmar kiss.

It seems crazy to be in a relationship with three people, when he was so unsure about two. But Forrest’s happy too, and he knows Delmar and Cleo are. This is big for them too. They’ve both been kind of slutty up until this point, but this triad monogamy is something they seem to want. It’s Delmar that gets them the best friend necklaces. Instead of a heart splitting into two, it’s a flower splitting into three. He apologises about the girliness, but when it’s separated you can barely even tell it’s a petal. 

Not that it matters anyway. Delmar wears his, but it’s inside his collar, pendant unseen. All Forrest can see is the ball chain, slowly bluing with wear. Each time Forrest looks at Delmar he wants to leave a string of hickeys around his neck, a necklace of bruises that say _mine_. He wants to lick down the cleavage Cleo’s low cut shirt shows until his face is nestled with the pendant on his tongue. They’re beautiful normally, but they’re so much more beautiful when they’re wearing the necklaces. 

*

Shauna is a joint girl. She likes the way it gets good and wet like a cigarette, an item that would be equally offensive to her Pentecostal mother. She like the thrill of buying papers from a corner store. She always lies about the reason, like the cashier cares. It’s part of the routine for her. When the weed burns the paper burns too, so the inhale is mixed and the high is softer. Shauna likes soft things.

Forrest likes pipes. He doesn’t want his high gradual, he likes it snapping and obvious, burning his throat. He likes holding the metal when it’s been toked from repeatedly and is still hot to the touch. They smoke in his shitty car, hotboxing mostly out of necessity because the windows barely work. He pushes down the window because the roller doesn’t work and bashes the pipe on the glass with a lighter, praying it doesn’t break because there’s no way he can afford to get the window replaced if it does.

One day when they get high Forrest spends over an hour writing on Shauna in one of her eyeliners. Like all of Shauna’s makeup it’s a shitty no-name brand, the kind that never lasts like the Maybelline commercials promise. She doesn’t need it to last long, she can only wear it where her mother won’t see. Most of the words mean nothing, song lyrics that pop into his head or quotes from the Simpsons. It’s not meant to be an art project, it’s a way of reclaiming Shauna from her mother. Covered in makeup, she’s his, not Mrs Crisp’s.

When they fuck it doesn’t hold up long. The waxy makeup smears his pink palms black, along with her sheets. It’s the sexiest thing Forrest has ever seen.

*

Rock Paper Scissors is the best game for settling things quickly. The place Forrest is in now, everything is a contest, everything a test. Even if Walsh didn’t want it that way, the men around him would force it. They’re all alpha dogs. In this crowd sometimes you need the equivalent of a dog whistle, a fast and finite way to end something. A throw of hands works nicely.

Delayed gratification is much more fun when only one is forced to delay. Just another lesson Forrest didn’t expect to learn in the army, alongside how to safety filter piss for drinking, and that vampires exist. It’s getting to the point where either one of them might come, so Riley twists his head back as far as it’ll go to look at Forrest and Forrest removes one of his hands from Riley's hips to pump his fist three times. At the end of the count he keeps it in a fist. Riley shows scissors and Forrest grins. He wins.

Riley presses his knuckles into the wall as Forrest drives into him several more times. He makes certain to keep his fingers clenched tightly- nearly painfully tightly, he knows from experience- around the base of Riley's cock. Finally letting go Forrest shoots inside Riley and bears down even harder around the flesh. He feels a whiff of sympathy for the abused flesh, but he’s got no choice. When they aren't playing around with DG, one orgasm usually triggers the other person's. 

Riley's knuckles turn white and Forrest has no doubt that there are crescent shaped marks in his palms, but between their efforts he manages not to come. Forrest pulls out and tugs his jeans up from their place around his ankles so he can zip up. Riley does the same thing, careful with the zipper around his erection. With a baggy hoodie tugged down as far as it can, the bulge is just barely noticeable.

It’s just past eleven, so it’s time to meet Buffy. Blond and suburban and obnoxiously perfect; Forrest would hate her, if he didn’t enjoy every lunch they spent together. She has no idea Riley belongs to him, and Riley knows it like he knows nothing else. Every time she’s distracted- and sometimes just because he wants to- Forrest gives Riley a good few gropes under the table so he doesn't get soft. The more people that fill the cafeteria the more fun it is, and the stronger Riley's reactions get. He even jumps when Forrest slaps his thigh. If he doesn’t stop, he’s going to walk away from the table as hard as Riley is. And he’s only wearing a t-shirt.

He doesn’t stop baiting Riley. Forrest wants his boy to squirm. He wants Riley to move enough that he feels the come sloshing around inside him and dripping out of his ass. Having a seemingly ill-timed boner is just the price he’ll have to pay for owning someone.


End file.
